


Go to Bed!

by definitelygrantaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Enjolras - Freeform, Gen, Les Amis - Freeform, Les Mis - Freeform, Les Miserables - Freeform, M/M, Sleep, combeferre - Freeform, definitelygrantaire, or lack thereof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-20 01:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/definitelygrantaire/pseuds/definitelygrantaire
Summary: Enjolras has been pulling way too many all-nighters lately... It's beginning to catch up with him.  Coffee can't sustain him forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are a lot of chapters in this fic, but they're short, no worries!

Enjolras sighed and stopped typing for a moment to adjust his reading glasses and crack his knuckles, a habit he had recently picked up from Grantaire. _Good thing Combeferre isn’t awake right now,_ he thought. _He would have a fit._ Enjolras checked the time on his laptop. Two forty-three AM. _Great,_ he thought, taking off his glasses and getting up to refill his coffee cup for the fourth time in two hours. He made his way into the tiny kitchen he shared with Combeferre and picked up the coffee pot. His hand shook slightly from the caffeine, which seemed to be affecting everything but his brain at this point. He began to pour carefully anyway when suddenly his hand jerked, causing him to dump coffee on his mug-holding hand. The black liquid, which was somehow still scalding hot, burnt his hand. Enjolras gasped loudly, dropping not only the mug, but the pot as well. He yelped and lept out of the way as the mug and the pot crashed to the floor, shattering, and splashing coffee all over the floor and the white cabinets. Enjolras cursed under his breath, then froze. He glanced up at Combeferre’s door, hoping with everything in him that somehow, some way, his friend had not awaken. Alas, hope had failed him. A light clicked on in Combeferre’s room, and Enjolras heard movement. He looked away from the door to his mess as the door clicked open.

“Enj? Everything okay?” Combeferre’s tired voiced came from the doorway. He rubbed his eyes, squinting in the harsh light of the kitchen. Then he saw the disaster on the floor.

“Peachy.” Enjolras returned, deadpan.

“Oh my.” Combeferre slipped his glasses on.

“Indeed.”

“Why are you still awake anyway?” Combeferre asked, raising an eyebrow. “I told you-”

“I had to finish this report!” Enjolras exclaimed defensively.

“You said you were almost done! And that was-” Combeferre checked the stove clock. “Three hours ago?”

“Well I may have gotten sidetracked.” Enjolras said, grabbing some paper towels and bending down to start cleaning up.

“Doing what, may I ask?” Combeferre interrogated, crossing his arms.

“You may not.” Enjolras said without looking up.

“Fine.” Combeferre sniffed, turning back to his room. “But don’t tell me I didn’t warn you about this!”

“Would I ever?”

“Ha. Just you wait until lack of sleep catches up with you. You’ll see. You can’t live off of coffee.”

“Try me.” Enjolras challenged as Combeferre shut his door, an all-knowing grin on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Combeferre’s alarm went off at six o’clock on the dot. He groaned and rolled over to turn it off, squinting at the clock angrily for a moment before sitting up. Combeferre grabbed his glasses off the bedside table and stood up, walking to his closet. He went past his mirror on his way to the closet and stopped. _Oh, good Lord,_ he thought, looking at his impressive mass of curls sticking every which way. He ignored that predicament for the time being and put on the khaki colored pants he had left slung over the chair in his room, and grabbed a random navy sweater out of the closet and pulled it on. Combeferre ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it as he opened his door that led into the kitchen. Enjolras had cleaned up his mess from last night, he noticed. Combeferre went to make a fresh pot of coffee, but then remembered the fate of their coffee pot. He sighed. _I’ll just stop at the Musain for breakfast on my way._ He returned to his room to put on his shoes and get his books and tablet for class. He was about to leave when he saw a mass of blankets on the couch along with an open laptop. Combeferre walked around the side of the couch. On it, just as he had suspected, was a very tired, but still awake, Enjolras. Enjolras didn’t even glance up when Combeferre came to look at him, eyes glazed over.

“Enj.” Combeferre prompted. Enjolras didn’t respond. “Enjolras.” Combeferre waved his hand in front of Enjolras’ eyes. Finally he looked up.

“What?” He said, voice husky from not speaking. He looked at Combeferre like he had just woken him up, which he had, in a way.

“I’m going to my classes now. Didn’t you ever go to bed last night?” Combeferre eyed Enjolras with concern.

“No. But I did sleep.” Enjolras said, seeming to search for approval.

“That’s good. How long?” Combeferre asked, relieved that he hadn’t pulled another all-nighter.

“Umm…” Enjolras looked at the time on his laptop and counted on his fingers, apparently unable to do mental math. “At least fourteen minutes. You know, here and there.”

Combeferre sighed. “That hardly counts. Just go to bed now and sleep until your classes start.”

“But the people-” Enjolras started to protest.

“The people need you to sleep. Go to bed now. I’ll wait.” Combeferre crossed his arms. Enjolras sighed longsufferingly and closed his laptop. “That’s a step in the right direction! Now get up.” Enjolras glared at him. “Come on! Up, up, up!” Finally Enjolras threw off his blanket and stood up, still glaring up at his roomate. “Alright, now go!” Combeferre made a shooing motion and Enjolras leaned down to pick up his laptop. “No!” Combeferre said, grabbing at the laptop. “Leave that here.” He gave Enjolras the look that only mothers can usually give. “Goodnight, Enj!” Combeferre called cheerfully as Enjolras retreated into his room, still sulking.

“Yeah. Aren’t you gonna be late to classes, mom?” Enjolras asked as he closed his door. Combeferre checked his watch. _Guess I’m not stopping at the Musain,_ he thought, annoyed, as he hurried out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Enjolras took off his glasses and collapsed onto his bed with an annoyed grunt. He considered going back out to get his laptop and continue working now that Combeferre was gone, but he decided to take his advice. Enjolras glanced over at the clock on his bedside table. Seven oh eight. Classes at nine. Enjolras pulled his phone off the charger, which he hadn’t touched all night, and set an alarm for eight. _That gives me time to stop at the Musain to get those papers for our meeting tonight,_ Enjolras thought. _And I can get coffee._ He flopped his head down on his pillow and closed his eyes. _Now go to sleep, he told himself._ To his dismay though, telling yourself to go to sleep over and over in your head doesn’t actually help you go to sleep. It keeps you awake. Finally then, after at least twenty minutes of Enjolras repeating that phrase to himself, he drifted off with thirty-two minutes to sleep.

Enjolras shot straight up, heart pounding, and looked at his clock. Seven fifty-eight. _Are you kidding me,_ Enjolras thought, not sure who he was annoyed at. He flopped back down to calm his heart rate. “At least I won’t be late to class.” He said aloud. Once the clock changed to show eight o’clock, Enjolras got up. Amazing what just half an hour will do. He strode over to his closet and opted for the red sweatshirt that Courfeyrac told him he wore too often. Enjolras shrugged and grabbed a mostly clean pair of jeans. As he pulled them on, he heard his phone buzz on his bed. He hopped over, very ungracefully, and essentially fell onto the bed. Enjolras picked up his phone and turned it on. There was a text from Combeferre to the “i am wild” group chat. Grantaire had named it after an interaction with Enjolras and no one had cared enough to change it. Combeferre’s text said, _“Hey everyone! Don’t forget that tonight is our meeting! I will be leading, and the sign-up sheet says that Cosette is bringing food tonight.”_ Enjolras turned his phone off and tossed it back onto his bed. He finished getting dressed and decided to go for a ponytail today, considering the state of his hair. Grabbing his books, glasses, and laptop and shoving them into his laptop bag, he set out for the Musain.

Surprisingly, Enjolras made it to the Musain and then to his university with the papers and coffee with five minutes to spare. On his way to his class, as he took his time making his way down the path, someone bumped into him from behind. Hard. Enjolras stumbled from the sudden unexpected force, spilling his coffee and almost dropping his laptop bag. “Hey!” He called angrily. “Watch where you’re going!” He glared accusingly at the accidental attacker’s back. The man turned.

“Sorry, Apollo.” Grantaire. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. You’re probably late, aren’t you?” Enjolras asked with a hint of sarcasm.

“As a matter of fact, I am. My class starts approximately-” Grantaire looked at his bare wrist, mimicking checking a watch, “Eight minutes ago. So thanks for stopping me.” Grantaire matched Enjolras’ level of sarcasm.

“Fine. Just go.” Enjolras sighed, pushing a loose strand of hair back.

“I’ll spot you that coffee.” Grantaire offered.

“Don’t bother.”

Grantaire shrugged and hurried off to his class. Enjolras looked at the clock in the center of the campus. “Nooo…” He moaned. Late. He held onto his laptop bag and what was left of his coffee and began to jog.


	4. Chapter 4

“How were classes, Sunshine?” Combeferre asked as soon as Enjolras came in. Combeferre was sitting on the couch, reading a textbook.

Enjolras truly looked more like a stormcloud than sunshine. “I don’t. Want to talk about it.” He bit off.

Combeferre had the grace to look slightly concerned. “Really that bad?” He asked.

“Worse than ‘that bad.’” Enjolras said. “First Grantaire made me late to class, then I fell asleep not once, not twice, but three times. And that was just in my first class. It just got better from there.”

“So much for not wanting to talk about it.” Enjolras glared at him. “Sorry.”

“And now I have four more papers due by the end of this week.” Enjolras said. “Not including the one assigned last week that’s due at midnight tonight. Which, by the way, I’ve barely started.”

“Oooh Enj. You’re gonna kill yourself with all this!” Combeferre frowned. “You’re already short on sleep. Maybe you shouldn’t go the the meeting tonight?”

“No! I have to go to the meeting. I haven’t missed one yet, and and don’t plan on starting now because of some dumb paper. I can crank it out in three hours if I set my mind to it. And I can get a head start now.” Enjolras marched off to his room.

“Enj-” Combeferre started, but Enjolras had already shut the door. This was not going to go well for Enjolras.


	5. Chapter 5

“Enjolras!” Combeferre called through Enjolras’ closed door. “I’m going to set up for the meeting! It’s six o’clock now, the meeting starts in an hour.” Combeferre waited for a response.

“I’ll be there. I’m just finishing up this paragraph, then I’ll head out.”

“Okay, see you there.”

Combeferre headed out towards the Musain. It was fairly busy there. People were stopping on their way home from work to pick up coffee, get dinner, or to get some last-minute work-related things done before they went home. Combeferre waved to Musichetta who was carrying a tray laden with food to a table. She smiled in response. “A few of the boys are already in the back!” She called.

“Okay, thanks!” Combeferre called back. He wove his way to the back room and opened the door to find Courfeyrac, Jehan, and surprisingly, Grantaire already there. They were talking and looking at Grantaire’s arm. It looked like he got a new tattoo. “Hey guys.” Combeferre said. “It’s nice to see you here early, R.”

“Hi, Ferre!” Courfeyrac waved. “R was just showing us the tattoo he got on Saturday.”

“Nice.” Combeferre said, feigning interest. To be honest, Combeferre didn’t like tattoos all that much, but he wasn’t about to show it. He moved closer to see it. He had to admit, it was an incredible work of art. It was a blue rose, taking up most of the space on his left forearm. “It’s beautiful.” Combeferre told him. “Where did you get the design?”

“I drew it.” Grantaire said, face turning a bright shade of pink. He wasn’t used to being in the spotlight, and certainly didn’t like it.

“Tell him what it means, R.” Jehan prompted. “I would get one too if you hadn’t thought of it first.”

“Well, essentially the blue rose represents art and the impossible, and I thought it made for some really cool symbolism.” Grantaire said.

“Indeed it does.” Combeferre agreed. “I need to get set up for the meeting, though. That’s very cool, Grantaire.”

“Thanks.” Combeferre hurried over to the projector cart and hooked up his tablet. He had to work quickly—people would be coming soon. As he thought this, Joly and Bossuet entered, taking their seats at their normal table. They waved Grantaire over, and he went, leaving Courfeyrac and Jehan. Feuilly entered a moment later, and Combeferre began to work a little quicker. There. The first slide was up. Just as he got it up, Éponine and Bahorel came in, talking loudly. Marius and Cosette followed close behind, Cosette carrying a tray of brownies. Now they were only waiting on Enjolras. Combeferre checked his watch. Seven o’clock on the dot. He guessed he could probably wait a few minutes for Enjolras and let the rest of the group talk for a bit. He decided to text Enjolras anyway, just to make sure he was coming. Combeferre picked up his phone and saw that Enjolras had texted him first. The text read: “I’ll be about ten minutes late. Just start without me, I’ll be there.” Combeferre shrugged and turned to call the meeting to order.


	6. Chapter 6

Enjolras held on tight to his laptop bag as he sprinted down the sidewalk towards the Musain. His hair, which had once been in a ponytail, was flying loose, only partially still in the ponytail. The Musain was in sight, and Enjolras was out of breath. Almost there, he encouraged himself. Then as an afterthought, I really should run more. But not like this. He reached the Musain and crashed through the front door, noting as he wove through tables that the clock on the back wall read almost seven thirty. Enjolras pulled up as he reached the door leading into the back room to catch his breath and push his hair back. He opened the door cautiously and slipped in and sat at a back table. Combeferre hesitated for a moment when he saw Enjolras long enough to raise an eyebrow, but he didn’t stop.

“So,” Combeferre said, “Does anyone have any comments or announcements?”

Éponine stood up. “I just wanted to remind everyone that the Can Drive for the single mothers home is almost over, so get your last donations in by our next meeting.”

“Right. Get those in. Anyone else?” Combeferre prompted. “Enjolras, I think you had something?”

Everyone turned, surprised to see that Enjolras had arrived. He stood quickly and swayed a bit. Must have stood up too fast. “Yes, I have flyers for everyone. I’m working on organizing a protest with Strength to the Weak. We’ve done things with SW before. They are an organization against the harsh or harmful treatment to the physically and mentally handicapped, the poor, and other minorities, especially in the workforce.” There was a general murmur of recollection. “I’ll be handing out the flyers, and if I could get Feuilly to help me? If anyone has any more questions about what SW does, you can talk to Feuilly. He’s done a lot with them before.”

Feuilly nodded as he stood to help with the flyers. “They’re a good group. I’m really glad we were able to join up with them again.”

No one else had any announcements, so once the flyers were handed out, Combeferre broke the meeting. Cosette set out the brownies, and everyone attacked them with vigor, except for Enjolras and Combeferre, who was turning off the projector and putting his tablet away. He looked up to see Enjolras sitting at the back table again, slumped over, head resting on his arms on the table. Combeferre sighed and strolled over to Enjolras. “Enjolras? Why don’t you go home and finish your paper, then get some sleep. You look exhausted.” Enjolras shifted, turning his head to look up at Combeferre tiredly. “I won’t even ask why you were late. Just go home.” Enjolras didn’t respond. “Come on, up we go.” Combeferre said, pulling on Enjolras’ arm. Enjolras got up with little encouragement.

“Fine. But only because I have so much to do. You know I don’t like to leave early…”

“I know. But you need to sleep. Now go. I’m sure I can manage to hold down the fort without you.” Combeferre smiled slightly.

“If you say so.” Enjolras looked like an exhausted puppy.

“I say so. Now go ahead.” Enjolras nodded and picked up his laptop bag and headed out the door. Combeferre caught Grantaire watching, and Grantaire put down the wine bottle he was holding and walked over, trying not to look drunk.

“What’s wrong with Apollo?” Grantaire asked with a slight slur.

“He’ll be okay. He’s just pulled a few too many all-nighters.”

Grantaire chuckled. “So it finally caught him. Caffeine can’t hold his life together, ya know.”

Combeferre raised an eyebrow. “Bold words from a man who drinks himself to sleep every night.”

“Ha. Very funny. I know alcohol isn’t always the answer.” Grantaire retorted.

“You do?” Combeferre asked, caught slightly off-guard.

“Of course. Sometimes ‘alcohol’ is the question and the answer is yes!” Combeferre just gave Grantaire a look a complete annoyance. Grantaire doubled over with laughter.

“Are you quite done?” Combeferre asked impatiently, adjusting his glasses.

“Nope!” Grantaire kept laughing as he went back to the main group. Combeferre rolled his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

Enjolras walked slowly down the sidewalk towards his apartment, coffee in hand, which he had just bought at the Musain before he left. _I just need to finish this paper. Another hour and a half, and it’ll be done. Then I can sleep._ He kept talking to himself, giving himself reason to finish the paper. _Blissful sleep,_ he thought. Enjolras’ eyes began to shut as he walked, but he stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk and jerked himself awake. _Just make it to the apartment-_ Enjolras tripped on an uneven slab of sidewalk and was out before he hit the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

Combeferre decided to leave just a few minutes after Enjolras did. He didn’t want to be out too late, but, he admitted to himself, he also wanted to make sure Enjolras had made it home alright and was working on his paper, rather than God knows what. He picked up his tablet and waved goodbye to whoever was paying attention. He left the Musain and stepped out into the cool autumn air, wishing he had brought a jacket. _No matter,_ he thought. _I’ll be home soon enough._ Combeferre walked briskly in order to get home as soon as possible. It was getting darker faster, and even though it was just after eight, the sky was already fully black. He squinted at a dark form on the sidewalk. _Oh,_ Combeferre thought, _a homeless person._ He took out his wallet to give them some cash. He approached and saw that the man was asleep. He bent down to put a bill under the man’s arm, but as he moved closer, he recognized the man. Enjolras. Combeferre’s eyes widened in fear. “Oh, no no no. Okay.” He put his hand on Enjolras arm and rolled him over, taking out his phone for a flashlight at the same time. “Enjolras.” He shook his shoulder. Enjolras groaned but didn’t open his eyes. “Enj!” Combeferre tuned on the flashlight. The first thing he saw when he turned the light on Enjolras was blood, still wet, glistening on his right temple. “Oh no.”


	9. Chapter 9

Combeferre quickly turned off his flashlight and opened his contacts. Bahorel. He tapped the icon and waited impatiently for him to pick up. The phone rung annoyingly. As he waited, Combeferre continued to try to wake Enjolras up by shaking him gently. “Come on…” He pled to both Enjolras and Bahorel. Finally Bahorel picked up.

“Hey, Ferre. Forget something?” Bahorel asked cheerfully.

“No, I need your help.”

Bahorel could hear the fear in Combeferre’s voice. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m fine. Enjolras is hurt. I need you to help me get him back to the apartment. We’re about halfway between the Musain and our place.”

“I’ll be right there.” Bahorel hung up.

“Hang in there, Enj.” Combeferre shook him lightly again. Enjolras moaned again. “Enj?” Enjolras moved his head and frowned, eyes still closed. “Enjolras!”

Enjolras opened his eyes slightly and squinted up at Combeferre. “What?” He whined.

“Oh, thank God you’re okay.” Combeferre breathed. Enjolras suddenly opened his eyes all the way.

“What time is it?” He asked frantically.

“Eight forty-five. Why?” Combeferre asked concerned.

Enjolras closed his eyes again. “Oh, good. I didn’t miss the deadline.”

Combeferre shook his head. “That’s the least of my worries. You need to rest.”

“No, I need to finish the paper. Help me up.” Enjolras reached his hand out to Combeferre.

“Not a chance.” Combeferre said firmly.

“Fine.” Enjolras said. “I can do it myself.”

“Enj-” Combeferre started. Enjolras sat up despite Combeferre’s warning. Combeferre scrambled to stand up. Enjolras just looked at him. He pushed himself up off the ground surprisingly easily, Combeferre noticed. As soon as he straightened though, he swayed dangerously. Combeferre reached out quickly to grab Enjolras’ arm, and Enjolras grabbed Combeferre’s shoulder.

“See? Everything’s fine.” Enjolras said confidently.

“That’s not how I’d put it.” Combeferre replied.

“Whatever.” Enjolras put his hand up to push loose strands of hair out of his face, and touched his right temple. “Ow. What’s this?” Enjolras asked, holding out bloody fingers.

“That would be blood.”

“Well who got their blood on me?” Enjolras asked, obviously still out of it.

“That’s your blood, Enj.” Combeferre answered calmly.

“My bl-?” Enjolras started before passing out again. Now he was leaning his full weight on Combeferre, who had to catch him before he ended up on the ground. Enjolras was a small man, shorter than Combeferre’s thin six foot frame by a good five inches, but he wasn’t light when he was dead weight. After just a few seconds of struggling with holding Enjolras up, Bahorel appeared.

“Ferre?” Bahorel called.

“Yeah, hurry up. You’re just in time, he passed out on me. Apparently he’s afraid of blood.” Combeferre grunted under Enjolras’ weight and rolled his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll get him.” If Enjolras looked short next to Combeferre, he looked tiny next to Bahorel. Not only was Bahorel six foot four, but he was very well-built. Bahorel picked Enjolras up like a ragdoll and held him like a baby. “Lead the way, Doctor.” Bahorel said.


	10. Chapter 10

Combeferre and Bahorel walked down the street, side by side, Enjolras in Bahorel’s arms. An odd-looking trio to be sure. They walked in silence for a while, until Bahorel had to ask. “What happened to him, anyway? It looks to me like he just face planted without even trying to catch himself.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s not what happened.” Combeferre replied. “He hasn’t slept in over forty-eight hours, and has been surviving off of coffee. He’s hardly eaten either.”

“Why didn’t you make him sleep?” Bahorel asked. “Or at least eat?”

Combeferre shrugged. “He’s a grown man. I can’t make him do anything.”

At that moment, Enjolras made a small noise and shifted in Bahorel’s arms. Then he opened his eyes and found himself being carried. “Hey!” He said, struggling to get down. “Put me down, man!”

Bahorel held him tighter. “Chill, Enj. It’s just me.”

Enjolras looked up. “Oh. Well put me down anyway! I’m not a child!”

Bahorel looked to Combeferre, and Combeferre just frowned and shrugged. Bahorel shrugged in response. “If you say so.” He said to Enjolras. Bahorel set Enjolras on his feet, but didn’t take his arm away. Enjolras shook himself free and began to march towards his apartment.

“Thanks, Bahorel.” Combeferre said apologetically.

“Any time.” Bahorel grinned. Combeferre smiled and shook his head, then jogged to catch up with Enjolras.

“Enjolras,” Combeferre said in a harsh whisper. “That was rude! We’ll talk about this when we get inside.”

They had just reached their building, and Combeferre got out his key to let them inside. Once they were in, Combeferre motioned to the couch. “Sit. And don’t touch the laptop.”

“But-”

“No.” Combeferre went to one of their kitchen cabinets and pulled out a First-Aid kit. “I knew I’d need this if I was going to live with you.” Combeferre said under his breath.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Ferre, it’s not that bad. It’s just a scrape.” Combeferre sat across from him and reached out anyway with a wipe. Enjolras leaned away.

“‘Not that bad’ my foot. If it’s ‘not that bad’ then why won’t you let me touch it?” Combeferre raised an eyebrow.

“Well… Those wipes sting.” Enjolras said sheepishly.  
Combeferre dropped his hand to his lap. “Fine. It’s your choice, then. Either you don’t clean it and it gets infected and you die, or you let me clean it and it stings for two minutes. Take your pick.”

“I die?” Enjolras asked doubtfully, eyebrow cocked.

“Well, in a hypothetical situation.” Combeferre admitted.

Enjolras sighed. “Fine. Just make it quick.” Combeferre nodded in satisfaction and leaned in to wipe away the blood from around the cut. “Oh. That actually doesn’t hurt.” Enjolras admitted.

“See? It’s not so bad. But to be fair I haven’t gotten into the actual cut yet.” Combeferre responded.

“Well that’s comforting.” Enjolras said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Shut up and let me do it.” Combeferre pushed up his glasses.

“If you must.”

“I must.” Combeferre began to clean out the cut and Enjolras winced. “Sorry, can’t be helped.” He finished cleaning it and turned to get a bandage. “There. Now once I’m done, you finish your paper— _quickly_ —and then _go to bed_.” Combeferre emphasised, taking out a butterfly bandage and applying it. “That’s quite the gash you’ve got there. You shouldn’t need stitches, but it’ll definitely leave a nice scar. Very rugged.” Combeferre grinned. “Just don’t tell anyone you got it because you fell asleep while you were walking.” Enjolras glared at him. “Now that’s not so attractive. You should try smiling every once in a while.” Enjolras just gave him a menacing look. “Not quite. You’ll get it eventually.” Combeferre joked, putting away the First Aid kit. “Now work on your paper. I’m not going to bed until you go to bed.” He sat down on the couch next to Enjolras with his tablet and began to read an eBook.

“Fine.” Enjolras finally responded as he picked up his laptop.


	11. Chapter 11

Combeferre yawned and looked at the time in the top corner of his tablet. _Eleven thirty-one,_ it read. _How does Enjolras stay up this late on a regular basis?_ He wondered to himself. Just as he was thinking this, Enjolras snapped his laptop shut with a satisfied sigh. “You’re done?” Combeferre asked hopefully, looking at Enjolras over the top of his glasses. The man was a mess. His typically immaculate golden curls were now a tangled mess in what must have at one point resembled a ponytail.

“I’m done.” Enjolras responded. “And I’m going to bed. Wake me up next week.” He stood up and stretched, taking off his reading glasses and searching for the case. When he couldn’t find it, he just set the glasses on the coffee table.

“Now there’s a good revolutionary. I might just do that.” Combeferre said.

“Nah,” Enjolras replied. “I have classes tomorrow. I need to get up at six.” Combeferre just raised an eyebrow as Enjolras turned towards his room. “Goodnight, Ferre.”

“Goodnight.” Enjolras closed his door. _Six o’clock._ Combeferre thought. _Sure._ He picked his tablet back up and began to compose an email. _Dear Professors,_ it read. _Please excuse Enjolras from his classes tomorrow…_


	12. Chapter 12

Enjolras opened his eyes to light streaming through his window. _Funny,_ he thought, _I’m sure I set my alarm last night._ He looked at his clock. One oh three? In the afternoon? Enjolras shot up in bed. _Oh no, oh no! I can’t miss class!_ He leapt out of bed, ignoring the pain that flashed through his head and started towards his closet but happened to notice a glimpse of purple on his nightstand next to his clock. He quickly picked up what turned out to be a sticky note. _I cancelled your classes. Go back to sleep. -C_

Enjolras sighed with relief and dropped back onto his bed. _Ferre,_ he thought, _you are a blessing._ He flopped back down and closed his eyes. _Today I sleep. Finally._ With that last thought, he drifted back to sleep.

Combeferre returned to the apartment at about five o’clock. He opened the door quietly. “Enj?” He called softly into the apartment. No response. “Good.” Combeferre entered and placed the bag of Chinese food he was holding on the kitchen table and knocked on Enjolras’ door. “Enj? Are you awake? I brought food!” He heard rustling.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m awake. I’ve been awake for hours.” Cane the muffled, very sleepy response.

“Sure you have. Anyway, I brought Chinese!” He tempted. “If you don’t come I’ll eat it all.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Just hold your horses.” Combeferre went back to the table to take out the food. As he was finishing, Enjolras emerged from his room.

“Why, hello there, Sleeping Beauty. You are a sight to behold.” Combeferre grinned.

“Shut up.” Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I’m just here for the food.”

“Well, if you’re going to be rude about it…”

“I mean, thank you, Combeferre. You are the best friend and roommate a guy could ask for.” Enjolras drawled.

“Now that’s more like it. Dig in, Sleeping Beauty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, y'all! I had fun writing this, and I hope everyone liked it!  
> ~Kira


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